Page 8

Austin

The next evening, I sat alone with only a desk light on in my office, the aftermath of last night's events still echoing in my mind. The taste of adrenaline mixed with the copper tang of my own blood lingered on my tongue. Every detail of the fight—the frantic shouts, the blur of fists, and that moment when I saw the flash of the blade—replayed behind my eyes in relentless loops. The terror I’d felt at Emmy being in the damn center of the chaos. I clenched my jaw as I recalled how I’d dragged her through that mayhem, her frightened eyes meeting mine in a silent plea.

I leaned back in my chair, heavy thoughts weighing on me. I promised her I’d protect her, no matter what. I’d almost failed—twice. And protecting her meant more than just brute force. It meant finding Luke, understanding who was behind these attacks, and taking down the threat before anyone else got hurt. The responsibility was crushing, reminding me of my own father's legacy—a legacy of duty, sacrifice, and sometimes betrayal.

My mind drifted to memories of my father, Tate King, a man who had ruled with a mixture of iron and indulgence, whose choices had left scars on the club and on me. I’d sworn I wouldn’t become like him, I thought bitterly. But here I was, bound to this damn club and now caught between protecting Emmy and avenging Grit.

I never understood what my mom saw in him or why she stayed. It wasn’t like she didn’t have options. Her father, my grandfather, would have let her come home. Her life, cut short by cancer, could have been a lot different.

A rap on the office door pulled me back to the present. Tank stepped in, carrying the calm intensity that I respected.

“Prez,” Tank said. “We’ve got updates from the perimeter. No new sightings of Luke, but there’s chatter—whispers that somebody has been moving assets around in the east wing of the industrial park. It could be what we’re looking for. Who we’re looking for.”

“So, nothing concrete yet?”

Tank shook his head. “Not yet. But it’s enough to keep everyone on edge. Diesel thinks we should mobilize a few guys, see what we can dig up on those shipments.”

My eyes narrowed. “I’ll handle it.” I paused, running my finger along the wound above my eye—the souvenir from last night’s fight—and felt a pang of guilt. I almost got myself killed. And for what? So some bastard could send a warning?

“You need to take backup. You have no idea what you’ll be walking into,” Tank cautioned.

A reconnaissance mission was just what I needed to get my head out of the fucking Emmy cloud I’d been in since waking up that morning and finding her wrapped around me in her sleep. Just like she used to do. What wasn’t the same was me sliding out from under her and leaving instead of sliding into her. I’d woken up hard and ready and leaving her warm, soft body had been torture. I’d stayed away from her all day, holed up in my office like a pussy. “I’ll be fine. I’m not going to get close enough to need backup. I’ll just do a fly-by. If I find anything interesting, I’ll call some guys in.”

Tank didn’t agree, but he wouldn’t argue with the Prez. “One more thing. That name you had Jax working on. The one Cooper gave you at Rusty’s. Jax found a lead on a man calling himself The Ghost. At first glance he said it looks like he’s a high-stakes player in trafficking. The human kind. Jax is digging deeper.”

This Ghost could be the one they were looking for. “Maybe if we find this Ghost, we’ll find Luke.”

“It’s too early to say, but I’d still like to take him out on principal alone.”

I closed my laptop and pushed up from the desk to grab my cut and leather jacket. I looked up, meeting Tank’s steady gaze. “Agreed. Keep an eye on Emmy, will you? I don’t want her getting caught up in this mess—she’s already been through hell.”

Tank grunted. “Understood. She’s as stubborn as she ever was.”

Stubborn. Yeah, that damn girl. Despite the anger and frustration, a deep, unspoken affection pulsed through me whenever I thought of her—the way she never let anything break her spirit, even when everything around her was crumbling.

“Let’s meet up in an hour,” I said finally. “I’m going to check the east wing myself. If I find anything, I’ll call in.”

Tank nodded and, with a curt farewell, left the room.

I sighed, pushing back memories of a time when Emmy was the girl who never let me get away, and I, in turn, had tried, often failing, to hold on to her. Those memories, vivid and unyielding, made me both angry and tender all at once.

I ran a hand over my stubble as I stepped into the hallway. I have to fix this, I thought. I have to get Luke, and maybe in doing so, I can finally make things right with Emmy.

The drive to the industrial park was dark, lit only by the occasional streetlamp and the steady beam of my headlights slicing through the inky black. My mind raced as I navigated the narrow back roads, each mile steeped in tension and the possibility of impending confrontation.

When I arrived, there was a faint buzz of activity. Not so abandoned after all.

Shadows flitted between the buildings. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed, a constant reminder that trouble was never far away.

I parked my bike near an outbuilding and stepped off, my senses on high alert. Every sound, every movement was magnified in the stillness of the night. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of muffled voices and the scrape of metal on concrete. I followed the noise to a secluded area behind one of the warehouses.

A little further, I found a door propped open. Inside, the corridor was narrow, lit by a single, flickering fluorescent light. The shadows here were deeper, almost tangible.

Peeking around the corner, I saw two men sitting at a table, playing cards while trash-talking each other. I listened for a while for any mention of a shipment coming in or references to a boss. Nothing. With the men focused on their game, I took a look in some of the other spaces and found most of them empty, no locked doors, or suspicious packages. A dead end.

My distrustful mind had to wonder why there was chatter about this location. Unless someone purposefully led us on a merry goose chase for grins and giggles, or was there a purpose? That seemed to be the bigger question.

In my pocket, my phone vibrated. A text from Tank.

No sign of Luke. New chatter of suspicious shipments near the old docks. We might have a lead.

My grip on my phone tightened. Not much to go on, but it was a start.

I replied. Nothing here. Tighten up that lead. Someone could be playing us with false leads.

That could be a big piece of the puzzle. My resolve hardened. If we discovered The Ghost was responsible, I’d hunt him down and any accomplice who dared to harm my family. But more than that, I was determined to protect Emmy from a world that had long tried to crush her spirit. I’d made the decision once to let her go for her own good, and I’d do it again if it meant her being happy.

As I mounted my bike and revved the engine, the roar of the machine seemed to echo my inner battle. The road ahead was uncertain, paved with danger and old wounds, but I was going to get answers. And I was going to bring justice to those who had dared to send their threats.

With the cold night air whipping past me and memories of Emmy’s fierce determination driving me on, I sped into the darkness, the image of her eyes—a mix of defiance and longing—etched in my mind like a promise I could never break.

Memories of the past still haunted my every thought as I pushed the throttle of my bike, knowing I was heading into a situation more treacherous than anything I’d faced before. But there was no turning back now. Not when it involved Emmy. Not when Luke’s life hung in the balance. As the bike roared beneath me, carrying me toward answers I didn’t fully understand, I knew this wasn’t just about protecting the Kings—it was about protecting the people I’d once loved, the people I’d never stopped loving. Including her.

The compound was silent when I returned, the kind of quiet that sank deep into my bones. My body ached from the fights, from the tension coiled inside me, but none of it compared to the war raging in my head. This entire day had been hell, but it wasn’t the underground ring or the men throwing punches in the dark that haunted me.

It was Emmy.

Lying beside her the night before had been a test of my willpower, and I had barely survived it. One more night like that, and I’d break. So I made the decision—I would sleep in my office. The worn couch was better than the alternative. One of the vacant bedrooms was simply too close to the temptation of being with her. Anything was better than letting myself have another taste of what I could never truly keep.

But as I stepped inside, exhaustion dragging at my limbs, I knew there was no way I’d be able to sleep like this. I needed a shower.

I’d be quick. Sneak into my room, grab clean clothes, and get out before I had to face her again. Before I was tempted to do something I couldn’t take back. My distraction was the only explanation why I didn’t hear the water running and being turned off because the second I opened the bathroom door, all thoughts of restraint evaporated.

Steam curled around me, the scent of her soap lingering in the air, but it wasn’t the mist or the warmth that had me frozen in place. It was Emmy.

She’d just stepped from the shower. Water cascaded down her bare skin, tracing the curve of her back, the swell of her breasts, the lines of her toned thighs. Her hair clung to her shoulders, slicked back from her face. It had been years since I’d seen all of her. She’d matured and gown into a stunning woman. Her breasts were bigger, and their globes hung lower. Her waist had always been within the span of my two hands, but now her hips flared outward, making it appear even smaller. There was also a slight roundness to her stomach now that had once been painfully flat dipping inward from her hip bones.

She was breathtaking.

She looked up and locked eyes with me. Neither of us moved.

I should have left. Should have turned on my heel and walked out before this went too far. But I couldn’t because she wasn’t hiding.

She didn’t scramble for a towel or shield herself from my stare. No, Emmy stood proud, unflinching, her chin lifted in defiance as if daring me to look away.

“You ran,” she said, her voice cutting through the haze of steam and tension like a blade.

My jaw tightened. “Em?—”

“You left this morning without a word. Ignored me all damn day.” She took a step forward, water dripping from her skin, her gaze unrelenting. “You think that makes you noble? That pushing me away somehow protects me?”

I tried to think of a response, my mind still focusing on all that creamy skin, but she wasn’t done.

“You’re a coward.” Her voice was softer now, but the daggers in her eyes were anything but. “Not brave enough to stand up and take what you want.”

That was it. The last thread of my control snapped, unraveling into nothing.

In two strides, I was on her, gripping her face as my mouth crashed against hers. It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t sweet.

It was a punishment. A brand. A claim.

She gasped into the kiss, but she didn’t pull away. If anything, she met me with equal fury, her nails digging into my shoulders, her body pressing against me, slick and hot from the shower. I backed her against the cool tile, swallowing her gasp as my hands slid down her sides, fingers gripping her hips like I’d never let go.

I dropped to my knees. My hands ran up her thighs, spreading them slightly as I stared up at her.

She looked back down at me, eyes wide, lips parted. She always loved when I went down on her. I did too.

And then I made her mine.

My mouth found her, teasing, tasting, making her tremble under my touch. A strangled moan slipped from her lips, her fingers tangling into my hair as she melted against the wall. I took my time, pulling her apart, breaking her down until she was nothing but shaking limbs and breathless cries.

When I couldn’t take anymore, I stood, lifted her into my arms, and carried her out of the bathroom.

Her legs locked around my waist, her lips dragging over my jaw, my neck, anywhere she could reach. I laid her on the bed, hovering over her, my mouth exploring, tracing the delicate places that made her sigh.

I’d never stripped and rolled on a condom faster and, finally, I claimed her completely.

A puff of air slipped through her lips as I filled her, stretching her, molding her to me. We moved together in a slow, consuming rhythm, our bodies finding the pace that only we had ever known.

The desperation built, igniting us both to a DEFCON level.

Emmy clung to me, whispering my name like a prayer, and when we finally shattered, we did it together.

Afterward, I didn’t move. I stayed, my arms wrapped around her, our heartbeats syncing in the silence.

Tomorrow, reality would set in. There would be questions, doubts, the weight of everything unsaid. Hopefully, no regrets.

But tonight, for this one fleeting moment, she was mine.

And I wasn’t letting go. Not tonight and maybe never again.

The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting golden streaks across the bed and warming the space where Emmy should have been.

I stirred, reaching for her, but my hand met only empty sheets. A sharp pang settled in my chest, tightening as I cracked my eyes open to find her already dressed, sitting at the small wooden table in the kitchen area of my room.

She was staring at the surface, fingers absently tracing the rim of a coffee cup. Her hair was still damp, curling slightly at the ends, and there were faint shadows beneath her eyes.

She was obviously exhausted and by the look in her eyes and the arch of her shoulders, she was about to run.

“Get back in bed,” I said, voice rough with sleep.

She didn’t even flinch, just let out a slow breath before lifting her gaze to meet mine.

“What we did last night,” she said, “I’m glad we did it. But it changes nothing.”

This shit again?

I pushed myself up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. The sheets pooled at my waist, but I didn’t care. I leveled her with a look. “The hell it doesn’t.”

She sighed wearily, shaking her head. “This club is still your life. And I can’t—” She broke off, gripping her cup a little too tightly before forcing herself to relax. “I won’t put myself through losing you again.”

I felt the words like a gut punch, but I refused to let them shake me. “So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?”

“Yes.” Her voice didn’t waver. “I took a week off and my time is almost up. I have a job, Austin. People depend on me. I can’t stay here, spinning my wheels, waiting for something to change when we both know it won’t.”

My teeth ground together. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

She huffed, standing now as if she couldn’t sit still anymore. “No, it’s reality. I came here to find Luke, and I’m still going to search for him. And so will you. But I can’t stay.”

She turned thinking that was the final word, and the conversation was done.

Like hell it was.

“You called me a coward last night,” I bit out, making her stop dead in her tracks and turn back. “Said I was running from something I wanted. That I wasn’t brave enough to stand up and take it.”

Emmy’s spine went rigid, but she didn’t turn around.

“Well, guess what, sweetheart?” I continued, rising to my feet, stalking toward her, wearing my nakedness arrogantly. “This morning, you’re the one being a damn chicken.”

Her eyes dipped, taking me all in. She licked her lips and forced her gaze upward before her shoulders stiffened. “Austin?—”

“No.” I stepped in front of her, forcing her to face me. “You can’t stand there and tell me last night meant nothing. That this thing between us isn’t real.”

“I never said it wasn’t real. It was always real. At least to me.” There was anger in her voice, but pain too.

“Then admit it. Admit you still love me.”

A muscle in her jaw ticked. Seconds stretched between us.

“I love you. I never stopped loving you.”

The words fell from her lips in a whisper, honest and unguarded. But almost instantly, her expression hardened again.

“But it doesn’t change anything,” she repeated, quieter now, like the confession had drained her. “It just means my heart is going to have to heal all over again when I walk away. And I will walk away, Austin. I don’t want this life. I don’t want to worry about getting a phone call telling me you’re dead.

I stared at her, fury and frustration twisting inside me.

She loved me. She still loved me, but love wasn’t enough. She was leaving. I wanted to grab her, shake some damn sense into her. Wanted to demand that she stop pretending like what we had could be so easily set aside.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I exhaled, forcing myself to swallow the words that burned my tongue. Because if I knew anything about Emmy, it was that she didn’t respond to force. She had to choose to stay. And until she did, all I could do was make damn sure she knew exactly what she was walking away from.

I tried to shove down the frustration burning through me. “You’re not leaving.”

Emmy’s brows shot up, arms crossing over her chest. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. There’s still a threat. You were nearly caught in the middle of a goddamn brawl, and we still don’t know who took Luke. Until we do, I’m not letting you walk out of here like everything’s fine.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “You can’t keep me here, Austin.”

“I damn well can.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Austin, I have a job. A life. I can’t just put it all on hold because you suddenly decided to play protector.”

My jaw ticked. “This isn’t about me suddenly deciding anything, Emmy. It’s about the fact that someone out there is responsible for what happened to Luke, and if they find out you’re digging, they could come after you next.”

“I have to leave, Austin.” Her voice cracked. “Not just for me—for my patients. They’re expecting me back, and I can’t just disappear.”

“Your patients aren’t the ones with a target on their backs,” I ground out. “You are.”

She shook her head slowly. “This isn’t fair.”

My chest rose and fell with controlled breaths. “You think I give a damn about fair? Fair is you staying here where I can keep you safe. Fair is you not walking out of my life again when we both know you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“The hell it isn’t,” I muttered.

A heavy silence settled between us, filled with all the things neither of us were willing to say out loud.

Then she shook her head, her eyes clouded with something I couldn’t quite place. “I have to go, Austin.”

I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to grab her, to make her stay. But I couldn’t force her. Didn’t mean I was letting her go. My voice was low when I finally spoke, steady despite the fire turmoil inside me. “Then you’re not going alone.”

She was doing it again. I could see it in her eyes, hear it in the resolve behind her words. She was already checking out.

But this time? This time, I wasn’t going to let her go so easily.

She thought she could leave. Thought she could pack up and walk out of my life again like she hadn’t just spent the night beneath me, wrapped around me.

No.

She needed to remember exactly what she was giving up.

My eyes darkened as I took a slow step toward her. She stood her ground, but I didn’t miss the way her breath hitched, the way her hands balled into fists at her sides like she was trying to steady herself.

“You’re making a mistake, Em,” I murmured.

She lifted her chin. “I have to go.”

“Do you? Because I don’t think you really want to.”

Her lips parted like she was about to argue, but I didn’t give her the chance.

I closed the distance between us in an instant, my hand sliding into her hair as I crushed my lips against hers.

Emmy made a soft sound of protest—a weak, halfhearted thing that disappeared the second my tongue swept into her mouth, taking, reminding.

I kissed her like I could etch myself into her soul so deeply that even if she walked away, she’d never be able to forget.

And she wasn’t stopping me.

No, she was sinking into me, her fingers gripping my neck, pulling me closer, kissing me back with just as much hunger, just as much desperation.

“Want me to stop, Em?” I groaned into her mouth, my free hand sliding down the curve of her waist before gripping the back of her thigh, lifting her against me. My hardened cock pressed against her pussy.

“More,” she gasped, and I took advantage, deepening the kiss, devouring her.

I carried her to the bed, dropping her onto the mattress without breaking contact. My body covered hers, pressing her into the sheets, my weight solid and sure above her.

Her hands went to my shoulders, her nails biting into my skin, and for a moment, I thought she might push me away. But she didn’t.

She moaned into my mouth, arching into me like she needed more. Like she needed me.

I pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, my breath ragged. “Tell me to stop.”

Her lips were swollen, her eyes glassy. She didn’t say a damn word. But she pulled me closer.

That was all the permission I needed.

I stripped her bare, my hands rough and reverent all at once as I mapped every inch of her skin. I didn’t rush. Didn’t let her slip away into her own head and overthink.

I made her feel.

And when I finally sank inside her, when her arms wrapped around me and her legs pulled me in deeper, I knew she could say whatever the hell she wanted, but she wasn’t leaving. Not this time. Somehow, I’d figure out how to give her what she needed while keeping true to my commitment to the KOC.